That Which Fades Away
by Tokumei-san
Summary: There is, beyond that facade of lights and laughter of Gion, another darker, more dilapidated and forlorn side. Welcome to Miyagawa-cho's Kachou Brothel, and welcome to the life of the prostitutes. OOC(If such a thing is possible for a Vocaloid), Japanese red-light-district AU. Historical detail very lacking.


**Chapter I— The Lanterns**

**Notes: Written in first person, Miku is narrating, based off the song 'A Certain Prostitute's Love'.**

**Warnings: As accurate as I tried to make it but probably not historically accurate at all. OOC-ness galore, if you attach a sweet and kind personality to Miku. **

**Disclaimer: Vocaloid not mine.**

**x.x.x.x**

'Beauty that stuns the moon and shames the flower, allure that sinks the fish and stays the lark.' That is a favourite Chinese saying of our mistress, the worldly, two-faced, cold lady that runs the brothel I am tied to. According to her, we, as prostitutes, should still be like the geisha of Gion next door, even if we spread our legs for every man that pay her every night, even if we barely know the difference between a _shamisen_ and a _taiko_, even if we do not dance.

It does not make any sense, not really. Yet every time sunset comes, I go to the warehouse, close my eyes, and pick whatever _kimono_ my finger lands on. Then I pick whatever _obi_ I feel matches the _kimono_, and I pick the underrobe in the same fashion.

The other girls—Luka-san, Haku-san, Neru, Momo-chan, Teto-chan, Saya-chan—they all pick their _kimono_ in the same way. Luka-san and Haku-san go first, though, because they are the most senior out of all of us, and then Neru, who came six months before me, and then me, and then Teto-chan and Saya-chan, who came in three months after me, and then Momo-chan, who came in only one month ago. Luka-san and Teto-chan, however, are absolutely terrible with colours—they always pick the most garish combinations, and more often than not the mistress will give them a good scolding before throwing another outfit at them and yelling at them to get a move on. We have since then taken to correct their choices hastily before the mistress comes to see what is taking us so long.

That is the only time which we see the mistress display any emotion other than a cold, calculating little smirk playing at the edge of her blood-red lacquered lips.

After we pick our _kimono_, we return to our rooms. The geisha of Gion have dressers to dress them in their thousands and thousands of layers; we have but each other to pull the robes on and make sure it stays on, at least until the men come and rip them off.

The geisha of Gion wear _kimono_ because it is part of what they are, and thus they make themselves beautiful, with padding to accentuate their figures if required, and wear their hair in elaborate hairstyles. We prostitutes, even if we imitate geisha, know fully well that we are not artisans—we are whores, and the _kimono_ is merely a ploy to get the men interested in what is underneath.

We only pull the underrobe on, pull the _kimono_ on, and then tie the _obi_ at the front—the mark that differentiates us from the entertainers in Gion. Hair ornaments are only for important guests, so most of the time we tie up our hair with little strips of cotton.

That day, however, I did wear hair ornaments, the only ones I have. I had Shion Kaito-san that day—a famous artist that loves the naked figure of a woman best, and one of my favourite patrons.

From my little rosewood box (a present from Shion-san) I hid under the tatami mats in the corner, I pull out two wooden _kanzashi _(yet another present from Shion-san_)_. It is composed of a large, wooden circle, with four strips of wood criss-crossing it in the middle. There is a blue stone embedded in the strips' meeting point, which Shion-san called aquamarine. Four half circles ring the top half of the big circle, making it the whole thing look like a flower, and protruding from the side is a short wooden bar, from which two bells are hung. A row of dangling, gilded strips also hang below the big circle. Behind the circle is a long, thin wooden stick, which allows me to fix the _kanzashi_ firmly onto my hair. If properly worn, I may even actually resemble a geisha.

I affix the wooden circles onto my hair, one at the base of each pigtail, and carefully arrange the ash grey and blue silk _kimono_ in a provocative fashion. The _kimono_ is one of the most expensive ones in our brothel, and is another present from Shion-san. He had originally given it to Haku, so it was slightly loose for me, but it worked just as well because it would be easier to take off.

From another box, black laquer this time, I apply my makeup. It is nothing like the geisha of Gion, whose arsenal of makeup could occupy one entire tatami mat. I apply some blush to my cheeks to make myself look more alive, and paint my lips with a light layer of rouge. I check myself in the small, slightly cracked mirror, deeming myself suitable for work, then walk over to the window.

My room compared to the others is large, mainly because I have no one to share it with. Everyone else has a partner—Haku-san with Luka-san, Neru with Momo-chan, Teto-chan with Saya-chan. Saya-chan would have been my roommate, if not for the fact that she and Teto-chan were twins and made a large fuss if separated from each other. To save herself trouble the mistress left me the entire room, while others had to split their room in two with wooden screens during their business time. Sometimes, it is good to have a room all to yourself—it is easier to cater to your customers needs, for example, and you can have all the space you want. And sometimes, it is not so good, since you have no one to help put your _kimono_ onto you, amongst other things.

I walk over to the window sedately, with a grace unbefitting of a prostitute, but required by the mistress, and open it to get a breath of fresh air. The red-light district is still awakening from its daytime slumber, but the night over at Gion has already started. I watch interestedly as the red lanterns of our brothel light with a flourish, giving the three-storey wooden building a friendlier, more welcoming look. From outside my room I hear the silver bell signaling for me ring, and I sigh and close the windows.

The night has begun.

x.x.x.x

**A/N: Plot bunny has been sitting in my head for a long time, and in the end I decided to take it and write.**

**Reviews please! :D**


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